God I hope heaven looks like Montana in September. A prayer I say often and truly believe. Montana comes into its own in September and shows her best self. It has forgot the cold and snow of last winter, the refreshing rains of spring have brought life to the landscape and it has marinated in the summer sun to produce a perfect golden product. The rivers are veins of life flowing through a dramatic landscape. The September Montana I know is as close to perfect as one can imagine.
The fishing is equally lustful. The fish can grasp long before the fisherman the impending winter and are working like an ant to eat and store weight so that they may see another spring. The mammoth dirty flows of spring are long down river and we are left with a river that has come into itself . A perfect gin clear ribbon tied around the largest gift around. The golden mountains are alive with the melody of singing bull elk engulfed in September lustful ritual of their own. The rocky tops get their first covering of white gold and the start of next springs life.
September is the month when you can have your cake and eat it to. If you are a dry fly guy, yup there are lots of that. Think BWO, Hoppers, Ants, Mahogany Duns. If you like nymph fishing there is that in spades. Just pick a handful of shiny and tiny nymphs and get to work. If you are a streamer junkie, take your flat brim and huck meat all day. The crowds of summer are long gone home to warmer and more populous states and what is left on the river are the true fisherman. Those that you do not mind chatting with as you pass. A different crowd for a different time. It is almost sinful to have all of this.
The biggest fish of the year are always landed under golden leaves. Is it that they had all summer to sloth up and carry almost twice the weight they did in the spring or are we seeing some fish that have eluded us all season and only now make themselves prideful available. Beautifully perfect fish in a beautifully perfect time. The brown trout are dressed up in their best party cloths ready for the fall spawn. The golden butter sides match the landscape.
As a fisherman Montana in September has everything that you want. No other time of year is the gluttony so great. Once you experience it you long for September all year long and become greedy. It becomes that irritating itch and a vice that needs to be filled. No other month compares. Like all good things September is short and sweat. Only 30 short days and its over. By the end winter is starting to grasp its icy and long grip on Montana and the golden days are gone for another year. Get out and make the most of September it feels to good to be true and the experience is good enough to be sinful.
